Warning for homophobia.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Piers asks.

Dudley swallows dryly. Of course he doesn't. He's spent years being conditioned to despise anything abnormal, anything that doesn't fit into what society thinks is right. Coming out to his parents who hate things as simple as a neighbor's grass getting a little too long is nothing short of a nightmare.

But he knows that he has to do it. He's spent two years with Piers, sneaking away, making excuses, avoiding questions about their closeness. He doesn't want to live a lie anymore. His parents will hate him, there's no doubt about that. But maybe he'll finally be free.

"You promise you'll stay with me?"

He hates the weakness in his voice. For years, he's been a bully. He's struck fear into the hearts of kids. Weakness has no place in his life.

Piers takes his hand, kissing his knuckles. "I promise."

Dudley nods. It doesn't take his fear away, but he feels like maybe he can do this.

…

"Mum, Dad-"

"Dessert, dear?" his mother asks, placing a slice of cake on Dudley's plate before he can decline.

"Thanks," he mumbles, glancing at Piers.

"Read somewhere they're going to try and do away with sugar," his father says gruffly. "Bloody whiny little-"

"Mum, Dad," Dudley says again, surprised that his words sound strong because he's shaking inside and out. "I wanted to tell you something."

His parents look up at him. Dudley swallows dryly, searching for the words. Under the table, Piers squeezes his thigh. The anxiety melts away, but just barely.

"What is it, Dudders?" his mother asks.

"I…" He looks at Piers. The smile on his face makes his heart flutter. Surely his parents can see how happy he is. Surely they'll understand. "We're together."

"Together?" his father asks.

Dudley nods. "Piers and me, we've been dating for two years now," he says, reaching for his boyfriend's hand. "We wanted you to know."

His father looks at their hands like they're a pair of snakes waiting to strike. His face reddens, and he looks away quickly. "What did I do wrong?" he demands. "I did everything to make you a tough boy, and you're a- you're-"

"Gay," Dudley confirms.

He waits for the explosion, for the fallout. He waits for his mother to sob and beg for to quit being silly. He waits for his father to throw something, to scream at him for being a disgusting failure. But there's only silence.

"It's a lot to take in," Piers says quietly. "My mum didn't come around for a month."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Dudley adds quickly. "It's just who I am."

His mother climbs to her feet and walks to his chair, her hand raised. For one horrifying moment, he's afraid that she'll slap him. Instead, she strokes his hair. "My sweet Dudders," she soothes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Out," his father says. "Get out. I didn't raise you to be some fairy! Out of my house! Now!"

"Dad-"

"I'm not your dad, boy. I don't have a son."

Dudley feels tears sting his eyes. He climbs to his feet, still grasping Piers' hand tightly.

"Vernon!" his mother cries. "Vernon, please!"

"I'm putting my foot down, Petunia. It was bad enough that I had to deal with your freak nephew! I'm not having another freak in my house."

"The only freak," Piers says, surprisingly calm, "is you. It's unnatural for someone to disown their own child because of who he loves."

His father answers by throwing a plate, hitting Piers upside the head.

"Vernon!"

"Don't bother, Mum," Dudley says quietly. "We know when we aren't wanted."

"Dudley, baby, don't leave!"

…

"We used to be like that," Dudley marvels as he cleans the cut on his boyfriend's head.

If things had been different, he might still be like that. He remembers that day when the robed thing tried to take his soul. He remembers seeing himself as a monster and vowing to make himself better.

"We grew up," Piers says bitterly, hissing as Dudley applies a little too much pressure. "I guess we got lucky."

"Of course I got lucky. I have you, don't I?"

Piers snorts. "Just because you're in love doesn't mean you get to be all sappy," he says, his lips curling in mock disgust. "Next thing I know, you'll be writing me love poems. 'Piers, Piers, you have the finest of all the rears.'"

Dudley laughs, but only for a second. "Do you think he'll come around?" he asks.

"Who knows. At least your mum doesn't seem to mind," Piers says with a shrug. "That's got to count for something."

It's more than he had expected. But then again, his mother has always been gentler, more loving. "There's that," he agrees. "And I still have you, even though my dad hit you with a plate.

Piers caresses his cheek, brushing his fingertips over Dudley's lips. "You'll always have me," he promises.

For a moment, he can forget that the world won't always accept them. He has Piers, and that is enough.